Privileged to Witness
by Nattle Sage
Summary: One chance to change a life, one choice to be made. Angela goes back in time. She must only watch the events, but when she is the part of them, could she really stay aside and see the great tragedy to unravel or will she risk the future to save the presen
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone! This is my new funfic and though it would be pretty hard to break down the history, I'll try my best. Think it will be Officer Murdoch centered, 'cause I adore him! Before we start: I know about the marital status of the certain officer, but I allowed my imagination run wild and fanaticize a bit. Hope, it wouldn't be too bad. I will very much appreciate your reviews and tentative suggestions. Here we go!

**Summary: **One chance to change a life, one choice to be made. Angela goes back in time on condition that she must only watch the events to follow, but when she is the part of them, could she really stay aside and see the great tragedy to unravel or will she risk the future to save the present?

**Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own anyone except original characters of Angela, Avatar Hasin and some others.

**Privileged to Witness**

**Chapter 1 "Not so beautiful morning"**

Angela opened her eyes with a groan. The room around her spun with the velocity of light, there was a terrible lump in her throat and she felt like throwing up. Lying as still as possible, she tried to remember the events of the last night. She had a meeting with her former classmates, graduates of 2000. They were talking about their achievements, career prospects, gossiping about who had married who and the like. Angela, who had hardly finished University, majoring in journalism, in her 24 was just a secretary on one of the entertainment channels, with career prospects going as far as making coffee, copies and arranging meetings for her boss, was feeling miserable. A girl, who had always been one of the best in all the classes, was now no one, just one of the million and it was not what she had been dreaming about. The meeting was the most embarrassing thing she had ever experienced, with all her former friends looking wide-eyed when she unwillingly told she hadn't married yet, she had no boyfriend and she hadn't become a well-known T.V. reporter. So instead of receiving sympathetic looks from those whose life was much better, Angela decided to hit the bottle. Beer after beer, she was becoming more and more tipsy, and this means more self-assured and confident and soon sent everyone to Hell and humming "Yo ho ho" and staggering left and right with the help of Andrew, the boy who had a crush on her at school, she walked home.

Only upon reaching her bathroom she understood that she had drunk too much. Latter curved in the ball clenching to the toilet, trying to stop her head from making awful swings and rounds, Angela Winsborn had cursed her miserable existence. That night was the most terrible in her whole life, and the next morning, despite she had slept for more than twelve hours, she felt only slightly better. Now, lying in the bed like a log, tears streaming down her greenish face, she vowed never to drink again_. No more, no more. That's enough. I may be just a secretary, but I would not be a drunken pig! Yes, my life sucks, but there's nothing to do about it anymore._ _Alcohol will not influence my life and decisions anymore. No matter how hard it would be, I'll live without its help. Where had I gone wrong anyway? It's not that I'm ugly or psycho or just stupid. Why then my life are passing by, why can't I control it?_

Indeed, Angela wasn't ugly. She was of middle height, slim, had a sportive trained figure and tanned olive skin, honey-brown wavy shoulder-length hair and dark-green eyes. It was just that she never paid any attention to her appearance, preferring to be comfortable than good-looking. It was than when she had understood that she had missed a big part of her life. Everyday she was working, than came home, called her parents, loll on her couch eating hips and watching T.V. On weekends she went shopping with her only friend Kate, they had lunch in a café, then she went to her parents' for dinner and then Monday came and everything was repeating itself. It was an exclusive circle and, digging her nails into the pillow, Angela prayed there was a way out.

Just then as if in answer to her prayers the phone rang and groaning once more Angela reached for the receiver.

"Yes," her voice was harsh, so she didn't recognize it herself.

"What does this mean, Miss Winsborn?" Her boss's angry voice reached Angela's ears, making her head jar painfully. "Weren't you supposed to be at work two hours ago?"

"Sorry, Mrs.Kleiton, I'm, m-m, I'm in no fit to work today. Think, I had caught a cold or something."

"I don't care even if you were bed-ridden, Angela. Had you phoned to worn me? No. Look, and I will not repeat twice: get your ass to my office! Now!" With this she hung up. Angela moaned. _Old bitch! I will never make it in less then two hours! Burn in Hell, witch!_ She carefully put her legs on the floor and tried to stand up. For a minute she thought she became blind, so she closed her eyes for her body to get used to the standing position, gulping air, not letting the nausea get the best of her. _Oh, yeah, this is going to be a loooong day._

* * *

Two hours and thirty three minutes latter, Angela Winsborn appeared in the building of 3DcT Channel, gravely pale, shaking and still swaying a bit. Cursing her terrible hangover, she struggled to look not at all ill and sick. What met her eye first was the bustle, like the President himself decided to give them interview, what was highly improbable, because their Channel was "more-of-the-entertainment-than-politics", in another words, it was not-so-popular. Noticing Jake, the guard, Angela staggered towards him.

"Hi," she said sheepishly, as he was looking at her attentively, obviously noticing her state.

"Hell, Angela, you look a mess!" He smirked. "How much had you drunk?"

"None of your business!" She answered much louder then she intended. "Sorry, I just feel like shit. What's wrong, anyway? Never see this place so overcrowded."

"Ah, big deal!" Jake stretched and put a cheap cigarette in his mouth. "They say we've been visited by, m-m, a magician and conjurer of a kind. He made a show yesterday, I believe "Spiritual Illusions" or something. They are lucky to have him for the interview, anyway. With our ratings," he sighed.

"All the fuss about the abnormal charlatan? I thought we were better than that!"

"Well, Angela, thing is he's either from Turkey or India, don't remember, but a foreigner who can show something different from endless talk-shows we are used to…"

"Anyway, it's fucking shit, and it won't save us," Angela uttered gravely. "Well, must go or boss'll kill me."

"Good luck," Jake replied knowing full well what happens with those who come late for work in this company.

Angela passed millions of people, running, shouting something in their mobile phones, making notes. And the feeling she had had in the morning returned to her. She wasn't a part of it. It was like she was standing on bank of the river, watching stream run wild, crashing on the stones, live a life of never-ending motion, while she was save on the ground, unmoving. Deep in her thoughts, she didn't notice a man in front of her. The collision made her lost her balance and she was about to fly to the ground, when someone's hands grabbed her by the arms, not allowing to fall. As soon as her head stopped spinning, Angela looked up to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes. There was no doubt that her savior was the conjurer and magician everyone was talking about. He was a tall well-build man of fifty with bronze skin and long black beard. His attire was rich and colorful: dark-blue embroidered coat and wide trousers and a turban of the same color. So much of a foreigner! There was something about him that made Angela feel an inner tremor. _He's trying to hypnotize you, fool! Stop staring!_ Angela looked aside hastily, not wanting to become a victim of that so-called magician.

"Um…sorry, I didn't mean to make a collision, just didn't see my way," Somehow she sound very sheepish and she hated that feeling. The illusionist didn't answer, but inclined his head slowly, still looking at her intently, and soundlessly passed by. His movements were those of a cat: graceful and lithe. Angela shook her head as if to wake up from a dream and was immediately aware of strong headache and start walking towards her final destination: Mrs.Kleiton's office.

"What does that mean? I ask you! Firstly, you decide not to come to your work, then when I call you, you tell me that you have a cold, and now three hours later I perfectly see that it was JUST A HANGOVER!" Mrs.Kleiton had been ranting and raving for ten minutes already, not giving Angela any opportunity to defend herself. "Now tell me what should I do? I who is responsible for the whole state of workers! Should I continue to undergo your tricks or should I just change my secretary?"

"MRS.KLEITON!" Angela could take it no more. "Let me tell you that it was just one time occurrence, an accident and it wouldn't happen again!"

"Of course it wouldn't, Angela," Her boss said icily, "Because you are fired."

"Wh-what?" Angela felt her heart sinking, "But, but you cannot fire me, I-I've been working for this company many years, no one knows this job better then me!"

"I can and I will. And by the way, Angela, this work is not so very difficult to do" The boss smirked.

"Oh, yes it is!" There's time and place for everything, Angela thought she heard it somewhere. Well, it's definitely the time she would tell everything she thought about that bitch, who had ruined a great deal of her life. "You don't even realize how hard it is to work with such a witch as a boss! Angela, go here, Angela, go there. I am not your slave, but for several years I've been cringing before you and I'm sick and tired of it! For all these years you haven't asked me any question other than had I done everything you asked! Not talking about that for such a salary as mine only an idiot would work days and nights on such a stinker!" Angela was breathing hard, her head reeling. Did she really say that? God, she never thought herself capable of screaming at her masterful boss. Speaking of which, Mrs.Kleiton was seating upright, her jar clenched so that Angela could hear her teeth gritting, her face pale with rage.

"Out," she hissed menacingly, "GET OUT!" Angela didn't wait for her to repeat.

"With great pleasure, believe me," Angela replied in a singsong manner and grabbing her handbag and a single photo of the Man of Her Dream from the table, she walked out, slamming the door.

* * *

It's just a beginning, sort of introduction. The next chapter will follow soon. What d'you think? Please review and let me know! 


	2. Miracles are real

**Chapter 2 "Miracles are real"**

Angela rushed out of the hateful building she had worked for three years in. She was so agitated that she was running without making out where she was going to. Her face aflame, angry tears burning in her eyes, Angela stopped running only when she was three blocks away from her former job. Distressed, she plopped down onto one of the benches in the alley. Burying her face in her hands, Angela moaned out of desperation.

_What's wrong with the world today? In less then twenty-four hours I experienced the worst humiliation in my life, had probably the worst hangover and lost my job with no prospects for the future! Lucky dog I am! _She smirked grimly and took a cigarette out of her handbag and, lighting it up, inhaled nervously. _Yes, that's better. Hold on, Angela, we'll think of something! Imagine mom's face when she hears about that you've been kicked out of secretary position! OH, MY GOD! What could be worse?_

A motion she saw in the corner of her eye made Angela snap out of her pessimistic thoughts. She looked up and saw the magician she had collided with earlier walking right towards her. Angela groaned inwardly. _Ok, taking my words back. Oh, joy! Is he going to make all his voodoo tricks with me?_ To her delight Angela had always been skeptical and didn't believe in paranormal abilities of so-called magician, moreover, now, like never before she wanted to stay alone. But it seemed that the magician had a wish to speak to her as he was looking straight at her, his yellow eyes boring into hers. Angela hated when somebody was staring at her, moreover she couldn't stand a long eye contact. She always cast her eyes when someone was looking in hers and now she let her eyes wonder elsewhere.

The Indian came and took a seat next to her. For several minutes they were sitting in the silence, during which Angela made several deep draws from her cigarette.

"Smokin is not becomin to a youn lady like you," the magician said with heavy Indian accent, his voice deep and rich. Before Angela could answer to this rather bold statement, the Indian took the cigarette out of her hand and threw it in a waste basket. This sudden action startled and scared Angela, so she jumped up, disturbed:

"What the Hell are you doing?" she cried out indignantly. "Who are you anyway?" The magician smiled broadly, so that his snow-white teeth were seen and smoothed his wild beard several times before answering.

"I think we have met in the studio today. You were so careless as to run into me," he raised his hand to stop Angela from angry comment, "And indeed I am a conjurer, named Avatar Hasin." He made a salutatory gesture, his fingertips touching his forehead and then his heart. Angela felt uneasy because of her earlier behavior. _Who knows, maybe he just want to make an acquaintance, he's a foreigner, after all, and probably don't know anyone here. Great, Angela, show a real San-Francisco cordiality! _

"Sorry, I'm a bit out of myself today, y'see, an unfortunate day. Angela Winsborn. Nice to meet ya," she stretched out a hand, but the magician didn't take it. Cursing Oriental ways of life and feeling rather foolish, Angela set down on her previous place.

"Yes, Miss Winsborn, quite an unfortunate indeed." He said deep in thought, then turned to her so his bright yellow eyes sparkled. "Tell me what, do you believe in magic?" _Here we go,_ Angela thought irritated.

"No, neither in magic nor in miracles. I'm a strong supporter of progress."

"Progress… Yes, progress is everything. You Europeans, think your whole life depends on the progress and technology, you built machines that you think are perfect, and then one little mistake, human factor, they say, comes about and all your technology go up against you. Now tell me isn't it hilarious?" Angela was listening silently, trying to understand what was it that he wanted from her. "What's the date today anyway?" He asked so out of the blue that it took Angela several minutes to comprehend what he had said.

"Ninth, April 9," but before she could say anything else, the magician cut her,

"So you don't even believe in fate?"

"I've told you I don't believe in things like that!" Angela was getting annoyed.

"You woke up this morning, thinking about the misery you are living in, you thought why you should live like that and is there any way you can change what was planned for you. You went out to the street and start walking. You had passed a lot of signs, but they didn't catch your eye. Magazine's headings, advertisements, people in the street. But, no, you saw nothing of it! Then you came to your office and got dismissed. Isn't it a great sign? You people are too busy complaining about your uneasy fate to see that life gives you another chance to start over. So most of you never use it." Angela was looking at the man wide-eyed. _How in God's name had he known what I was thinking about or what had happened today? Who's he?_ This very question she voiced in a small voice.

"Ah, I'm a traveler, Miss Winsborn, a traveler who merely watches how people make grave mistakes that condemn their lives."

"I don't believe you," Angela said more bravely than she felt. "It's a joke, a trick. Ok, master, I almost, almost believed, now excuse me, I must go," Angela stood up and began to walk away.

"That is it, Angela, always walking away, too afraid to take things as they are, to afraid to take a little risk." Angela froze dead in her tracks. She knew he was right. "That is why your life is so simple and miserable. Because not even once in your life you stepped towards the unknown. No, you always walked the way that was known to you up to the end, and then why complaining now, when everything is just like you had known it would be?" Angela shuddered, her hands clenched into fists, she turned abruptly and walked hastily towards the magician, looking daggers.

"Ok, so if you are such a smart ass, prove you are not lying to me, prove me that I have that damned chance to change to fucking Hell my life is! Traveler, aren't you? Why don't you take me in one of your trips, uh?"

"This is impossible, Angela," he said calmly, making her even angrier, "I am the one who can reach through time and space without ruining everything."

"Really?" She arched a brow mockingly. "And why so? Are you something special? Though I knew it, you are just a liar or a lunatic or both!" She once again started to walk away only this time to be grabbed by the arm painfully.

"No one ever called me a liar, Angela," magician's eyes were blazing, "Don't think it's some kind of a game, everything is so complicated that it is beyond your understanding."

"But I-I want to see what you've seen," by unknown to herself reason Angela was now begging him, something deep in her soul told her not to let this one chance to vanish. She was no one, she had nothing more now than that one man talking riddles, but the way he spoke, the way he looked at her, made Angela believe him without any doubt. He was her salvation, but as hard as she tried she couldn't tell where that thought had come from. "I want to know, please, I won't tell anyone, I swear." His face softened, his voice became soft as if he was talking to a child.

"That's not the point, Angela. You are not ready to see it, to feel, no one is. I had made these mistakes once and I don't want to make it twice. Past is not a joke. Every detail, every single word spoken wrong can influence the history, present and future."

"Oh, I've heard it before, the changes of spatial and temporal continuum. God, I won't change the history, please. Then again, if you weren't going to take me with you, why d'you told me about who you were?" The magician smiled warmly.

"Angela Winsborn, you are a very wise and witty woman, but if you are going with me you should learn how to be stupid." Angela smiled brightly as she understood that she had won that match. Nevertheless, as they were walking in the unknown to her direction she started to feel nervous. _What if he's not what I think he is, though I don't know really who he is for real? Ah, God, what I've got myself into? What if his a maniac of a kind? Relax, Angela, this day couldn't possibly get worse, not that you should care. If not he, your mother would kill you, so relax, babe, and let it be!_

"So, where are we going anyway? I mean, what time?" She asked to get distracted by a small talk.

"Firstly, if you want to come with me you should learn to read the signs. So I tell you follow the date." _Follow the date, is it a charade of a kind?_ "Secondly, we are going backwards, that means that you should learn how to behave yourself and not be suspected of anything strange. Then, before we start our travel I should be sure that you, willingly or not won't inform anyone of any thing referring to the future. Constantly, every day, every minute you must be on the alert. And," he stopped in front of a small antique shop, Angela had never seen in her life before, and looked into her eyes, making her unable to turn away, "now the most serious thing. You should swear to me, swear on your heart and soul and lives of everyone who is here in you present that whatever happens, no matter what tragic events would occur in the past, no matter how much you would want to change them, you won't. Tell me this now and here, Angela." She gulped nervously and nodded.

"I-I swear. I won't change anything in the past, no matter what."

"Good," he said lightly, his solemn tone vanishing. "Now, ladies first," he said opening the door of the shop and letting her in.

"Thank you," Angela answered politely, trying on a role of a lady. She followed the Indian behind the counter and to the store room, where he invited her to sit on the couch, while he was busying himself in what seemed to be a small kitchen. "So, how are we going to travel to the past, anyway? D'you have a time-machine or something?"

"I don't need those awful things, moreover they are non-existent," He answered, returning with two glasses of what seemed to be red wine and giving her one. "Don't worry, you won't be lost in history. You know the place and events of that time pretty well. Now," he said raising the glass, "before we start our travel, let's drink for fortune that would help us with our mission." He drained his glass in one gulp, inviting Angela to do the same. The wine tasted strangely, not the taste she was used to. But that thought came to her only after she had drank the last drop of it. Her head start spinning again and she thought it was because of her recent hangover, but as something in her throat began to burn, and it became hard to breath she understood, it wasn't her body's reaction, but the wine.

_He, he poisoned me. Oh, God I'm going to die. Curse you, son of a bitch! God, I can't breathe! No, no, I don't want to die, I can't die!_

Before darkness invaded her mind and eyes, a thought crossed Angela's mind unconsciously. _He said follow the date, date…What's the date today. Oh..yes…he asked me this. Ninth, April 9…Follow the signs…Morning paper: 1912 people killed in the air crash. __People killed…Killed…1912…April 9 1912…Oh, shit. _

* * *

_Hope you like it. Anyway, there wouldn't be any magic and another stuff of the kind in the next chapters, so breathe deeper, and please, review!_


	3. Step into my World

Hello! Here I am still recovering from the tragic event that took place yesterday. I had typed the chapter and was about to post it, but my DEAR LOVELY COUSIN had deleted it, though I have no idea how. So, with a nervous breakdown and still sobbing as it was very good chapter, probably the best I've ever written I had to write it all again. Of course it's not so very good, because the writers block had overtook me at the very beginning, but at least it's something.

Other very important information. Tomorrow I'm leaving the city to have a very looong camping in the mountains with horse riding, climbing mountains, hiking and other stuff. Unfortunately I will not have time to update. My only hope is that before I would go abroad that will be around 7th August I will manage to write a chapter. But, guys, I love you and ask not to give up my story, because, I promise it will be very interesting!

Brandie Thomas,liz-04- great thanks to you, guys, your reviews were of a strong support to me!

**Chapter 3 "Step into my world"**

_Ugh, Sun…I HATE SUNSHINE!_ – was the first thought that appeared in Angela's mind as all the mist that had invaded it some time ago disappeared. Following the ability to comprehend, came sharp headache, reminding her of the party she had recently. _Oh, if only Meg hadn't been babbling about her "angelic" fiancé and the opening of her own art gallery for the whole evening, I wouldn't feel sooo awful today. Guess I drank too much tequila yesterday…Two or three bottles? Ok, Angela no time to complain, get your ass out of the bed and better hurry up not to be late for work or that old witch…_

And then it hit her, the events of the previous day: how she had had a nasty morning, how she had gone to work, how she had been kicked out, how she had met the Indian and how he had tried to poison her. _So, I'm not dead after all, 'cause if I had been, I wouldn't lie here and talk to myself, now would I? Ok, um, where exactly here is? _

Angela's eyes snapped open, but she had to close them immediately because of the bright blinding light streaming into the room. _I always draw the blinds 'cause of that jerk that lives in the opposite house…Sooo, I'm not at home? OH, MY GOD! WHERE AM I THEN?..._Angela began to panic, and as her eyes got used to the sunshine, she could make out her strange surroundings. She was lying in the big four-posted bed under the rich blue covers and the room she was in was the one she saw in those historical movies her cousin Mary made her watch. The furniture was antique, her favorite Empire style, colorful carpet decorated the floor and the vase with beautiful flowers stood on her bedside cabinet. It obviously was the place she had never been in.

As if to save her from further confusion, there was a knock at the door and without waiting for an answer, the door open to reveal a red-haired head.

"Oh, you've already woken up, Miss. You've been sleeping for quite a long time, we thought you would not be up to breakfast," the woman slipped into the room and rushed to draw the curtains, much to Angela's delight. It was a little tubby woman in her prime with coppery auburn pinned-up hair, good-humored freckled round face, kind but still sharp a bit slanting brown eyes and warm bright smile, dressed in a long dark-blue dress with a snow white apron.

"I took it to myself to think about your clothing, Miss. You were so very strangely dressed, that should you appear like this in the streets people should talk," her enthusiastic babbling made Angela more and more confused.

"And who're you?" After she had been poisoned, fired and found herself in the unknown place with a woman in a dressed strangely, Angela was in no mood to be polite. Instead of being insulted by such familiarity, the woman smiled warmly.

"I'm Dilcey, the maid. Ah, today is such a good morning, Miss!"

"Well, um, Dilcey, what's date today?" Angela asked uncertain. _So, we did manage to travel back in time and judging by her dress we went not very far…um, I say, the beginning of the twenty century. Wonder, if I should have drank more of the poison to go somewhere further?_

"Oh, Miss, I was asked not to tell you, but after we will dress you, you will go to have breakfast and there you will have answers to all your questions," with this Dilcey went to the large wooden wardrobe and after several minutes of rummaging there, extracted lots of different garments, about the purpose of wearing which Angela could only guess. Then the maid laid on the bed a dress and though it was a simple morning dress, ecru in color, paisley blue and green, with delicate neckline and long sleeves, for Angela who had seen such only on T.V or, on rear occasions, in the theatre, where her cousin Mary insisted on going, it was simply beautiful.

Five minutes later, Angela stood in the middle of the room, feeling exceptionally fooling in a lacy petticoat, reading herself to the bloodiest torture known to women – corset. _No way! No way am I going to get **this** on! Happily, I know the statistics and the number of women who had died because of that thing! NO! I don't want to suffocate – such a miserable death!_

"M-m, Dilcey, can't I do without that thing?" Angela pointed at the offensive garment.

"No, Miss," the maid laughed brightly, "every respectful lady is wearing a corset, not to put it on would be a bad form. Don't women wear it in India?"

"What it have to do…", What it have to do with India, Angela was about to ask, stopped in time not to betray herself. _Uh-oh, almost failed, Angela. Who forgot to warn you, you are from India? Well, guess it's my legend now. Ok, let's play FBI and he program of witness protection!_

"Nope, they don't, y'know, religion are not allowing," Angela prayed Dilcey wasn't an expert on India's religion and traditions. But of course she wasn't. The only expert this Welsh woman was on was attending to ladies, as it was her only job, since she had been but a girl of fifteen.

"Well, Miss, you'd better get a firm grip, then," Dilcey answered smiling.

Angela obeyed, bracing herself and catching firm hold of one of the bedposts. Dilcey pulled and jerked vigorously and, as the tiny circumference of whalebone-girdled waist grew smaller, Angela's screams became quieter, since the lack of air. Squeezed like tuna in a tin, Angela was experiencing all the nine rounds of Hell. _Never believe when they say you can get used to it! Never! Earthquakes and fires are fun in comparison with this!_

"Don't European woman need to breathe?" Angela was speaking with difficulty.

"You will get used to it, Miss. Very soon," was Dilcey's laughing answer.

* * *

The café of the South Western Hotel in Southampton was crowded that morning as ladies and gentlemen, most well-known people from Britain, were passing away time, waiting till the memorable day of April 10. It was a matter of prestige to travel on the most famous of all ships ever, the one that got a special name from the journalists – "The Floating Pallas Hotel". Practically all the tables were occupied. Either by gorgeous ladies, in intricately dressed and colorful hats of different size and form, with parasols or tiny dogs, but essentially wearing their best jewelry to show off before their acquaintances; or by men in strict suites, smoking expansive cigars, talking politics and time to time looking at the golden watch, hidden in the waistcoat's pocket. This was it – the flower of British Society, the personification of Britain in 1910-ies. Small talks, cups of coffee, waves of fans – it all seemed like the picture of the unknown artist came to live.

But there was one stain that ruined all the harmony of that beautiful morning and it was sitting in the far corner of the café. A man so unlike the others, a representative of Oriental Culture, the world closed to the European mind, thus considered wild and undeveloped, for these supporters of the progress, received intrigued stairs from everywhere. His swarthy skin, wild black beard and intricate clothing attracted too much curious stair, edging with boorishness. But the Indian didn't mind staring, as he was too involved in reading a morning newspaper to notice what was happening around.

He stopped reading only when a young woman escorted by the maid entered the café. Avatar Hasin noticed the changes that had happen to Angela. Now she was practically indiscernible from the other ladies. Practically. She was nice-looking in the fashionable dress, her hair gathered in a bun opening her beautiful neck and the thread of white pearl was making her look elegant, but still all her movements were sharp, awkward and edgy, and she looked like she was going to faint – that the Indian thought was the consequence of the corset. He also remarked he needed to work on her steps as she was swaying a little, not used to wearing even small hills. So much for sneakers!

"Um, hi!" Angela said uncertainly, sitting opposite from the Indian.

"And what does this mean?" He asked coldly. "I thought I told you to mind your speech, while you are here." Angela was becoming irritable. She bended across the table so no one could hear and whispered urgently.

"You know what? The fuck with politeness! We should discuss that little incident that took place, shouldn't we? Mind you, I'm not just angry at you, I'm mad! So you'd better start thinking a good excuse!"

"Now you listen, Miss Winsborn," he answered calmly. "You **will** have your breakfast now, and then we will go to a private place where we can talk. But until then you **will** be silent."

* * *

Probably I will write one more chapter today, before I will leave, but can't promise anything. Please, review, cause your review help me to overcome writers block. Love you, guys! 


	4. Make My Day

Wow, I'm back, finally! This summer was great and I enjoyed my trip very much, but I was longing to return to continue writing. Now, that I'm here I'm going to try to update regularly.

Dear Brandie Thomas , I thank you for your suggestion and think that I really need to have a beta. With my knowledge of English it would be only necessary. So everyone who wants to help me, please, write, I will be very, very glad!

Sorry for such a short chapter, but I couldn't wait to update, so here it is. The next chapter promises to be much more interesting, cause we will meet some of the very-well known people. Stay with me, and please, write your reviews for me to know I'm not writing in vain!

**Chapter 4 "Make my day"**

After breakfast that consisted of chocolate croissants and the cup of the best coffee Angela had ever tasted, escorted by the mysterious Indian, she walked out of the café towards the foyer of the hotel. People were walking back and forth preventing her from breaking the silence, but in her mind she was preparing a whole tirade and was waiting impatiently to see the reaction on Avatar Hasin's face, when she would tell him everything she thought about him and his ways of traveling.

Finally they left the hotel and were now standing in the middle of the street. The bright sun that had been shining in the morning was misplaced by grey clouds that were threatening to spill out the moisture so typical for this country. A slight breeze was blowing and it was then and there, when Angela understood that the hotel they were staying in was overseeing the port. For Angela who always loved water, seas especially, it was a breath-taking sight. Ships, yachts and even liners were rocking on the waves peacefully, the seagulls circling high in the skies, the light-blue horizon so desirable to be reached – it all brought Angela a forgotten feeling of peace and unknown, almost childish delight…But, she had a mission to accomplish. Thus, looking around to make sure no one is within the earshot, she glared at the Indian in what she hoped was an accusatory way.

"Well, can I talk now?" Angela asked crossly, and without waiting for an answered continued, her voice full of indignation. "I guess you owe me a damn detailed explanation of what the Hell had happened, so, better start making excuses. Firstly," Angela bended a finger, "I woke up hell-knows where today, and a red-haired crank thought I'm from India! So what's the fucking India thing? Secondly, what's wrong with you, man? I mean, you have a damn odd way of traveling through time and space! And, finally, WHERE, THE FUCK, ARE WE?"

After such a tirade, Angela went silent, trying to even her breathe. As for the Indian, his face stayed controlled and emotionless. Then, like the gallantry itself, he made Angela a gesture to follow him, causing her to grit her teeth, and started down the quay, his steps wide and confident.

"Firstly, Angela, I'll ask you to keep your voice down or people would without doubt think you are at least ill-mannered. Neither you nor I would like that. Secondly, how many more time do you want me telling to forget your foil language?" Angela felt like a little child who was reprimanded by strict parent for a prank, as she was trying to keep up with the Indian's pace. _Oh-oh, you might think! Isn't my anger justified? I don't know where I am, I have no money and no idea how to get back! And now he's telling me I should stay all that calm and quiet. Oh, I can tell him…!_

"Then," meanwhile, the Indian continued, "I had to give a good reason for your strange attire and inappropriate behavior. So, I make…how you call it?…a legend… So, here is the legend: you, Angela Winsborn, were born in Britain, but your father, a military, were send to India, where you have spent most of your life, until you met me. In my turn, I was going to Europe with my illusion show and I needed someone who could become my…guide in the European culture. You took a position of my assistant and secretary…"

"An assistant?" Angela asked incredulous.

"Yes, is there something wrong with it?" the magician asked confused if he ever could be confused at all.

"Well, nothing, it just sounds like an annotation to the cheap sentimental romance…"

"I've never thought about it that way," the Indian said coldly. _I should think so!_ _What's the point in your trying? _"That way some of the misshapes in your behavior and speech would be excused…As for the accusation about the way of getting here – it was the only one possible…"

"BUT YOU WERE TRYING TO POISON ME!" Angela cried out furiously, too loud, so a couple that was passing them by turned back, startled.

"It was only necessary. You should have died in that world to appear in this one…" That phrase had shocked Angela so much, that all the harsh words she prepared to tell the Indian died in her throat. _My God, he's joking! He's not serious, he just can't be!_ She stopped and was staring at the empty space like a ghost was there. It caused another couple of passers by to look at her highly disapprovingly. The Indian's face became softer and as he reached out and took her hand in his, his voice was almost gentle,

"It doesn't mean the end, Angela. You will be able to return home as soon as our journey would come to an end." Angela glanced up into his eye to make sure his words weren't just lies meant to console an upset child, and, seeing for the first time how honest and open the eyes of that wise man were, she gave him a small smile. The Indian smiled mysteriously in return. "As for your last question, I won't answer it…But," he continued before she could protest, "I will show you."

_If only it means he won't poison me once again._ But instead, the magician took a black silk scarf out of the pocket of his rich embroidered coat and blindfolded her.

"What on the earth are you doing?" She was tying to protest, but Indian laid his hands on her shoulders firmly.

"Do trust me on this, Angela and you won't regret it," he said secretively and without further ado, he took her hand and led her in the unknown direction.


End file.
